


lives left behind

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, F/F, Interspecies Romance, Kissing, Post-Order 66, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: Ahsoka couldn't help but smile - she held herself a little more confidently now, but otherwise she was the same old Trace.
Relationships: Rafa Martez & Trace Martez, Trace Martez/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	lives left behind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



Trace tightened the leather straps on her gloves as she slid into the pilot's seat. Not long after the incident with the Pykes, Rafa had found her an old, second hand flight simulator. It was a gesture Trace appreciated, and with her much improved piloting skills, plus a little more tinkering, the  _ Silver Angel  _ was flying smoother than ever. After returning to Coruscant again  _ with  _ her ship, she and Rafa had options. Rafa scored a couple of jobs hauling cargo -  _ legal  _ cargo - for local businesses and then word got around. They were still working together, but they had their own space. While Rafa dealt with clients, Trace was up amongst the stars. Yet somehow, she felt closer to her sister than she had done in years.

It could get a little lonely, though. 

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about Ahsoka since they went their separate ways. At first it had just been when she glanced over at Ahsoka's bike in the workshop, or grabbed a bite to eat in a cantina where they'd shared a meal, but then they'd all heard what happened with the Jedi. Even down here in the bowels of Coruscant, that had been big news. Sentiments towards the Jedi and the Republic hadn't exactly been the  _ best  _ in the city's lower levels, and opinions on whether the Empire was any better or worse were split. It had been a hot topic of conversation for a couple of weeks, and then most of the folks down here had moved on - unless they were creating more jobs, what did it matter  _ who _ was running things when your biggest worry was making enough credits to pay the rent? Of course, most of the folks down here had never met a real life Jedi. Most days, Trace couldn't believe that she had. That whole episode felt like a fever dream, or a nightmare, depending on which part she focused on. She spent the first couple of weeks after Palpatine's speech desperately hoping that Ahsoka's leaving the Jedi Order had spared her from the purge, before she and Rafa received a single cryptic message.

_ 'Take care of the trash.' _

The ship's comm beeped, and she glanced at the caller ID - Rafa. She flipped the switch, and a miniature blue Rafa flickered to life, wearing her signature fur coat and a look that...well, Trace knew that look all too well.

"Rafa, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong. Why would you assume something's _wrong?"_ The little hologram Rafa glanced around, biting her nails. "Can't I give my own sister a friendly call?"

_ "Rafa." _

"Okay, okay. You might want to get back here. It's the, um,  _ trash disposal person."  _ Rafa's fingers formed exaggerated air quotes, while Trace's trembled as she punched in the new coordinates, setting a new course for Coruscant.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

Ahsoka pulled up her hood. It wasn't likely that anyone coming into the repair shop would recognise her, but she couldn't take any more chances. Being back on Coruscant at all, even down in Level 1313, was already a huge risk. She'd been subjected to Rafa's griping but Ahsoka still trusted her. The constant back and forth between them was familiar, almost even comforting...as though maybe it  _ was  _ possible to slip back into at least one of the lives she'd left behind. It wasn't.

It was impressive how much Trace and Rafa had managed to build in so little time. Whatever faults she might have had, Rafa was smart and had a knack for business when she wasn't trying to swindle pirates and gangsters. And, by all accounts, Trace turned out to be a damn good pilot once she started working towards getting her license. It brought her some joy to see that at least two good people were managing to stay afloat as the Empire's influence washed across the galaxy, drowning so many others. 

Ahsoka finally got around to checking out her bike once Rafa was busy in a meeting with potential new clients. Trace had taken her words to heart - Ahsoka would barely have recognised her old Joben T-85, if it hadn't been in exactly the same place she'd left it almost a year ago. It certainly couldn't be called  _ 'Trash'  _ anymore, and she wasn't sure it could be called  _ her  _ bike. Almost every part had been either replaced or heavily modded, lovingly painted with a coppery orange base, and blue and white patterns. A year ago it would have warmed her heart. Now, it chilled her to the bone...for hers was not the only face she saw reflected in Trace's artistry. 

It was the sound of heavy, hurried footsteps that brought her back from memories of delving amongst debris and shovelling snow.

"Ahsoka!" Trace clamped her hand over her mouth as if to guide her exclamation back inside. "Sorry. Probably shouldn't yell, right?" In spite of everything, Ahsoka couldn't help but smile - she held herself a little more confidently now, but otherwise she was the same old Trace. 

"I think we're okay here," Ahsoka said carefully, "but it's best to be on the safe side." She wasn't safe anywhere anymore, not  _ really _ , and especially not here on Coruscant. But Trace didn't deserve to feel guilty about something that was neither her fault, nor something she could change. "You know...I think my bike's going to need a new name. You certainly can't call  _ that  _ trash."

"How about the  _ Copper Angel?"  _ Ahsoka snorted.

"Very funny." Trace fidgeted with the straps on her gloves.

"I missed you." Ahsoka stepped closer and opened her arms, welcoming Trace into a long overdue embrace. Even her  _ hair  _ smelled like engine oil and, as it tickled her cheek, Ahsoka became aware of how much it must have grown over the last few months.

"I missed you, too," she murmured, lips moving softly against the shell of Trace's ear, in an almost-kiss. She'd thought about kissing Trace sometimes. A lot of times. "But...I can't stay." If she and Rafa were charged with illegally harbouring a Jedi, that would be another thing Ahsoka couldn't forgive herself for.

"I know." Trace's fingers drifted lightly along the length of her lekku. Like Trace's hair, they'd also grown. For togruta, this was a gesture of utmost trust and intimacy, and it was clear from her demeanour that Trace was fully aware of that fact. Ahsoka drew back and pressed her palms to Trace's cheeks before doing something that she hoped neither of them would regret.

She kissed her.

Trace's mouth was warm and, against all odds, didn't taste like the engine oil that she practically lived and breathed. Ahsoka whined as Trace brushed against a particularly sensitive spot on her lekku. Maybe she could stay just a  _ little _ longer.


End file.
